


My Muse

by ChetRoi



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Feeding, Hisoka's just trying to sleep, M/M, Marshmallows, Writer's Block, just really fluffy, ooc (maybe?), talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24505846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChetRoi/pseuds/ChetRoi
Summary: Homare is suffering from writer's block, Hisoka's just trying to sleep. Sadly, Homare's too distracting, so Hisoka tries his best to help cure Homare's writer's block.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Mikage Hisoka
Comments: 10
Kudos: 76





	My Muse

**Author's Note:**

> So...Hisohoma is my second fave A3 ship and I realized that I haven't written ANYTHING about them. So here is my first offering of HisoHoma to the A3 fandom... I hope it's okay. Plus ngl, I'm getting Chikaita burnout (I'm surprised too) so I'm tryna write less of them.

Homare frowned, the pen in his hand completely still, as he stared at the blank page in front of him. It was taunting him, insulting him, driving him crazy. The sun’s bright rays filtered through the window, hitting the desk in a way that made the color of the desk shine. Even with such a beautiful sight right in front of him, Homare sighed once again. He leaned back in his chair, taking in the sounds of Hisoka slightly shifting in his sleep, his breaths bringing Homare comfort. Homare tapped the tip of his pen against the desk, its noise combining with Hisoka’s soft breaths, which had stopped.

“Alice, you’re so noisy.” Hisoka sleepily muttered, turning over on his side to get a pillow to cover his face with. 

“My apologies Hisoka, my brain is just currently at a standstill.” Homare sighed again, turning his direction to the scenes currently playing out in the courtyard. The loud noises of a blender hummed with Omi’s laugh blending with it. Kazunari, Taichi, Muku, Juza, Citron, and Sakuya were running in circles, trying to escape the grasp of Misumi. Of course, tagging someone wasn’t difficult for a guy like Misumi, who gently slapped the back of Citron with a happy “Sankaku tag!”. Citron laughed, his eyes alight with a bright glimmer. 

“Get ready for Citron’s punishment!” Citron striked what Homare believed was some kind of anime pose with one hand in front of his face and the other hand thrown back.

“Okay guys, before Citron starts punishing people, would you guys like some milkshakes? I just wanted to try making something refreshing because it’s been so hot lately.” A wave of cheers echoed throughout the yard as everyone rushed over to grab a cup. 

“Damn Omimi, your milkshakes can bring all the boys to the yard.” Kazunari remarked, letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“Yes indeed, they are better than mine and yours Kazu!” Citron added, chugging his cup. He held out the cup to Omi, who chuckled and refilled it. 

“Thanks guys. I’m glad that you all enjoyed it so much. Drink up, I’ll make more for the others later.” Juza’s eyes widened, his hand quickly reaching for his 4th cup. 

Homare sighed again, putting his face in his hands. God, that scene was so cute and he couldn’t even get  _ anything _ from it. Not even a line or a stanza popped into his mind as he loudly groaned. 

Hisoka took the pillow off of his face. “Are you okay?”

Homare dramatically placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “No, I’m not okay. I believe I am having a severe case of... “ Homare paused, before seriously saying “Writer's block.” 

Hisoka’s face scrunched up. “Can you go get your writer’s block somewhere else? I’m trying to sleep.” Homare brought his hand to his heart. 

“I’m wounded. Don’t you have any pity for a struggling artist?” 

“Not really.” A short silence later, Hisoka sighed. “What’s wrong? The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go back and sleep.” 

Homare felt a small smile forming on his face. Despite the usual deadpan voice that Hisoka said that in, Homare knew him enough to catch the slight concern tinged in his voice. “Well, most bouts of writer’s block last longer than a single talking session, but it’s worth a try.” Homare cleared his throat. “Time and time again, people have often referred to me as a genius, a once in a lifetime writer, a visionary. However, what they don’t know is that I too suffer from a drought of ideas and or motivation.” 

“Well, when did it start?” Homare pursed his lips. That was a good question. 

“I don’t know. I just woke up one morning and my mind was as arid as the Sahara. I tried to write some warm ups, yet nothing was forming in my mind. I read some of my books in hope that they would awaken something inside of me, alas it didn’t work.”

Hisoka surprisingly sat up, reaching into the drawer next to him to get his marshmallows. He popped one into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Well, if books don’t give you inspiration, what about other things? You always find inspiration in the dumbest things, like noodles.” 

Homare gave an offended gasp. “I’ll have you know that noodles are wonderful sources of inspiration and that they’re not dumb at all.”

“See. Case and point there. Maybe, you just need to find something like that to motivate you.” 

Homare sighed. “See, that’s the problem. I can’t seem to find anything that motivates me. I saw the desk gleam in such a beautiful way just a moment ago, yet nothing came to mind. I even saw the most adorable scene with the other Mankai members that involved everyone happily playing a game of tag while Omi was making another one of his delicious concoctions. On normal days, a fountain of inspiration would flow over me and I could write a few poems or stories just based on that. Yet now… now, I can’t even come up with the simplest words.” Hisoka was silent before he held out his bag of marshmallow. Homare looked at Hisoka, then back down to the marshmallows, then back at Hisoka. “I’m not sure I quite understand.” 

“When I’m unsure of what to do, I often eat marshmallows. Have some. Maybe they’ll jog your ideas.” Homare gaped at the offer. 

“You almost never offer anyone your marshmallows…” His mind was rapidly running, the action overtaking every other coherent thought of his. He felt warmth blooming in the pits of his stomach, the sweetly sick smell of the marshmallows only making them increase. 

“Yeah, but I’m offering you them, so are you going to take it or not?” Hisoka sighed. He shook the bag in front of Homare’s face. Homare hesitantly took one, daintily taking a small bite of it. Physically, it tasted just like any normal grocery store marshmallow, but emotionally it was one of the best things Homare has tasted. 

“Thanks Hisoka.” Suddenly, a wave of motivation crashed over Homare like a storm. It throttled him, almost throwing him overboard into the ocean of endless ideas. “Say Hisoka, what else do you do when you’re unsure?” Hisoka shoved another marshmallow into his mouth. 

“Well, I go to someplace quiet where I can be by myself and I just think. I analyze the situation and I try to see what are the possible routes I can take.” A far off look appeared in his eye. “If that doesn’t work, then I would look up at the sky and ask…an old friend… for help.” Homare was silent, listening as the chewing of Hisoka filled the room.

“Well, may I ask what your friend was like?” Homare had a slight inkling that it might’ve been too personal of a question, so he quickly added “If you don’t mind telling me.” 

Hisoka placed down the bag of marshmallows, before sitting down on the floor, his hands wrapped around his knee. “Well… he was kind of like the director. He was a busybody that worried way too much. He was terrible at cooking, but he tried. He was kind and made sure that we were all safe and comfortable and that well… our needs were always above his.” Homare wasn’t quite sure, but it sounded like Hisoka was sad. Homare wasn’t quite sure how to react, so he did what he normally read that people did, he wrapped Hisoka into a hug. Hisoka’s green eye widened as the man slowly hugged back.    
  


“Alice, what are you doing?” Hisoka asked. Homare knew that it was an inappropriate time to notice, but the man smelled good. It really didn’t help the butterflies that were released when Hisoka offered him marshmallows.

“I’m not really that good at handling emotions, but I don’t want to see you sad, so I did what a normal person in my books would do. I hugged you.” 

Hisoka let out a small chuckle. “You really don’t need to do that. I’m fine.” He untangled himself from the hug as he picked up the bag of marshmallows again, grabbing one and popping it into his mouth. “What about you? Are you fine? Or at least, are you better?” 

Hisoka nodded. “The words and ideas aren’t coming, but the motivation is here. With motivation, ideas and words usually follow it because it’s my will. I will grant it, no matter how much work and reading it may entail. It may not be enough, but it was more than I had before. Plus, I think I have a slight inspiration too. So, thank you.” 

Hisoka smiled his soft smile. “I told you the marshmallows really do work.”

“Does that mean that I get to have more? “ Hisoka wrinkled his nose. 

“No. One’s already plenty enough.” Hisoka went back to his bed and in no time, Homare heard his steady breathing again. 

Oh well, it was worth a shot. Homare went back to his desk and picked up the pen again. The blank paper no longer seemed to be taunting him, instead it was a blank slate. A blank slate where he could write down all the turbulent feelings that he experienced before. Yet, as he wrote a single word, everything seemed to have seeped out from him and dispersed into thin air. Homare sighed as he turned to face the sleeping man. Feelings were so complicated that Homare never really was sure how to capture its essence into measly mortal words. Feelings were everything and nothing at once. They hit you like a bullet out of nowhere and then they can leave you as quickly, quietly disappearing into the shadows that they came from. Homare stared at the paper and then looked back up at Hisoka. He wouldn’t let that marshmallow go to waste. Still, as Homare tapped his pen on the desk, checking out the window to see that the lively scene from before had wrapped up, he felt...weird. He forced himself to write a few words, but they felt disconnected from one another. Nothing really flowed. He began to tap his pen faster against the desk, hoping that the fastness of the pen will somehow correlate to the fastness in which his ideas will come. However, he stopped when he felt someone tap him. He turned around to see Hisoka with his bag of marshmallows again.

“Alice, I’m going to give you one last marshmallow again. After that, we’re done.” Hisoka warned. Homare blinked hard before he nodded. He raised his arm before he lowered it as Hisoka grabbed a marshmallow and held it in front of his mouth. “Open your mouth Alice.”

Now, it was Homare’s turn to ask “What are you doing Hisoka?” Hisoka gave him an impatient look.

“I’m feeding you. Maybe… it can spark more ideas if you experienced something that you had never experienced before. Now open your mouth.” Homare obliged and opened his mouth, Hisoka softly putting in the marshmallow. It felt strange to be on the receiving end of the marshmallow, but he didn’t dislike it. The taste of the marshmallow was still too artificially saccharine for Homare, but this was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. He savored the marshmallow, making sure that it counted because he would always remember this moment. 

“Thanks Hisoka. I really appreciate you doing that for me.” Hisoka looked to the side. 

“It’s the least I can do when you’re always taking care of me. I need to return the favor and take care of you too.” Hisoka replied, his voice a strange tone. 

“You take care of me in ways that you don’t even realize, so thank you. I hope that I will always be there in the future for you, like that old friend of yours, even if I’m not physically there.” Hisoka didn’t respond for a long while, but when he did, his voice was soft, laced with an emotion that Homare had never heard in his voice before. 

“You will be Alice. You’re unforgettable, in a good way.” Hisoka quietly made his way up the bed once again, but Homare didn’t hear the usual telltale sign of him sleeping. Homare didn’t understand why, but it was probably too personal to ask, so he turned his attention once more to the page. The emotions from the feeding still haven’t left him as he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. If this was how Hisoka always felt like when Homare fed him, Homare understands why Hisoka always wanted to be fed. 

Using that strange butterfly feeling, Homare wrote the first few lines. 

A man with hair as white as snow and an eye as green as the freshest fern took care of me today. 

“Can you feed me for I am hungry and you are the supplier of food” is something that he would always say. 

Yet, at this moment, the roles were switched and I was the hungry one while he was the source of all the food. 

However, it wasn’t the general food that you all may have been thinking of, it’s not the food that you eat to nourish you and to make sure that you’re alive. 

It’s the food to motivate you, food to make sure that while you’re alive, you do things that make your life interesting, food to feed your soul, your heart, your feelings instead of your stomach.

That man made me feel alive, made me feel as if I was much more than the robot that I thought I was, and yet he passed it off as if it was to repay me.

He doesn’t know how much that I need to repay him, to repay him for making me whole, to repay him for fixing this broken clock, to repay him for all these feelings that I didn’t think were possible. 

He snapped me out of the arid desert of my writer’s block, yet he also snapped me out of the arid desert of my own feelings. 

He may have thought that I saved him but in the end, he saved me just as much as I did him. 

Homare paused, snapping out of his trance-like state. He heard the steady breaths of Hisoka and he smiled to himself. “Thank you for everything Hisoka.” He whispered to himself before he lost himself to his writing. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter @gachakitakorejk for more fics...\


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